Clueless
by SamuraiSal1
Summary: Because they're smarter than you'd think. AmeIta.


**First attempt at AmeIta. Other pairings may be mentioned and non-supported. You have been warned. **

**XXX**

It was yet another meeting that was going nowhere. However, the reasons differed slightly. Where other meetings were mainly because Germany (and England, to some extent) were trying and failing to preserve order, with no one else listening, this meeting was… rather the opposite. In two separate corners of the room, Germany and England were lecturing the two nations that had proven time and time again that it took more than just a warning to get them to stop disrupting the meeting.

Or, at least, it had started that way.

After five or so minutes of the usual 'Italia! Pay attention and stop doodling on your notes!' and 'America, you bloody wanker! Stop interrupting!' lectures had passed, no one had been all that concerned. However, when fifteen minutes had come and gone, with neither Germany or England showing any signs of stopping—with Italy looking increasingly upset and America not even bothering to put up any pretense of shrugging it off like normally—the other nations were getting a bit concerned. After half an hour, though, a few nations had decided it was too painful to keep watching (especially as Italy had tears leaking out of his eternally-closed eyes, and America was hardly any better but at least made some attempt to not blatantly cry).

"Doitsu." Japan approached his fellow ex-Axis Powers with some hesitance. "I think that is enough, don't you?"

Germany whirled around, apparently snapped out of the lecture that he, quite possibly, hadn't been aware he was still giving. "Vas?"

"You are starting to scare Itary-chan," Japan said quietly. "Wouldn't it be best if he and America-san could leave the room for a while and compose themselves? You and Igirisu have shaken them up, it would seem…"

Both Germany and Japan were suddenly aware of France joining the corner opposite them, where America was still being lectured by England. It seemed that France had intervened just in time, though, as England immediately backed off when he saw America's rather strained expression, but perhaps it wasn't soon enough, since he immediately stormed past the Europeans.

England, of course, tried to stop him, but America forced himself out of the Brit's grip.

"Don't touch me," America snapped. "You're always nice to me when no one else is around, but the second someone else enters the room, you're back to being… cruel."

"I don't mean to—"

"Whether or not you mean to," America cut him off, "You do. And I'm sick of it. So either grow up or find someone else to mess with. Because I'm not dealing with this anymore."

He stalked out of the room at that, but paused when he walked past the corner that held Italy and Germany. Without a moment's hesitation, he grabbed Italy's hand with a glare to the German.

"Vat is the meaning of this?" Germany demanded, making a grab for Italy.

"Because you do it, too," America said with a surprisingly even tone. "And I'm sick of it. So hopefully you can learn better than England can, because otherwise I'm not going to let him go back to you. He deserves better than someone who's just going to yell at him."

Germany turned to meet Italy's face, and was somewhat surprised that he'd managed to miss the hurt on the Italian nation's face.

Did he really look like that every single time Germany yelled at him?

Italy, still looking a bit lost about all that had transpired, just held onto America's hand as they walked through the exit, not making a sound. Fortunately, though, Germany didn't make a grab for him again, and no one else made a move to stop either him or America.

The door shut with a bang, leaving most nations confused as to what, exactly had happened.

XXX

Italy didn't say much when America led him down the hallway and maneuvered him into a spare room at the back of the building. He didn't say much when he was eased into a chair by the window, either. He didn't even say anything when America joined him.

However, when he finally got a chance to look at the other's face—and _really_ look at it, because America was nothing if not smoke and mirrors. He was the home of Hollywood, after all, and the place where acting could be a career and not just a hobby—and saw the honest hurt there, Italy felt compelled to ask. After all, America had saved them both the trouble of acting like they weren't affected by their respective 'less than lovers, more than friends' partners.

"Why did you do that, vee?" Italy asked, tilting his head slightly at the sight of America's startled expression. The previously constructed mask was back, and there was an entirely out-of-place laugh from the superpower's side of the couch.

"Did you… not want me to get you out of the rest of the meeting?" America asked, suddenly nervous, but carefully disguised as 'sheepish' or 'confused'. "'Cause I'm sure I could find a way to get you back in there, but, uh, I kinda figured that, since we're both alike in a lotta ways, you'd… uhm, appreciate not having to listen to him, y'know, uh, berate you. And stuff," he finished lamely.

Italy quirked an eyebrow, leaning forward. "I do appreciate it," he said honestly. "But I wanted to know _why_."

"I just told you, didn't I?" America asked, openly nervous this time, dropping all previous disguises. "I, uh, didn't want you to get yelled at…" he paused, dropping his head slightly and averting his eyes. "And I didn't really want to get yelled at anymore, either. It's… demeaning, you know? And I try so hard to get people to, you know, not be so…"

"Mm." Italy was doing his best to encourage the other to go on, but it proved to be more difficult than he'd previously thought. "You can say it, you know. I do it, too."

America startled again, glancing up. It proved difficult to read faces when the person you were talking with rarely opened their eyes all the way. Still, there was more than enough evidence of Italy being similar to him for America to feel alright with saying it.

"I want people to stop looking so miserable," America said, voice stronger and deeper than he normally allowed it to be. "And I work hard at making them be less serious. I make jokes and pretend to be an idiot just so they have an opportunity to laugh, because I know for a fact that no one in there wants to be so serious all the time."

Surprisingly, Italy broke into a wide smile, opening his eyes to reveal that he was actually rather mischievous. "And? Go on, veh. I know there are more reasons. I would love to hear them before comparing my own."

America chuckled, deep and slow and very much unlike the half-hysterical laughter that most people had been subjected to over the years. Italy found it a nice change and leaned forward a bit more so as to enjoy it more. "I'm waiting for the day when everyone will realize that I'm smarter than they think. And… And that I'm more than capable of being everything that people need. And that I worked on the rocket they sent to the moon. I wasn't one of the guys up there, no, but I worked on the blueprints. I was one of the people that corrected any and all engineering flaws that were found there."

Italy's eyes widened. "I didn't know that! That's amazing!" And neither of them had to mention that most people would ask "_Why didn't you tell anyone_?" because they both new the answer.

"Yeah. Well," America chuckled again. "I guess most people don't realize that America has one of the best scientific opportunity the world over, if not the best, or if they did know, they didn't apply it to me. Figures, am I right? But, uh, it's not just that, either. I also pretend to be dumb so people leave me out of things. I mean, it really bites me in the butt sometimes when other countries see that I'm a superpower and hold a lot of power over them and then they get scared that I'm going to mess up, and then comes the lectures… But all in all? It's a decent plan." He glanced away, though, before continuing. "And it's not like I can really change everything right now." He stopped talking, then, shifting closer—and they were close on the couch, even a bit too close—before holding out his hand to the Italian nation. "So, enough 'bout me. How about you? What are your reasons?"

Italy smiled again, warm and with grateful eyes, before taking America's offered hand. "My reasons are a bit different. I suppose it partially came from how I was raised. Everyone insisted on doing things for me because I was cute," he paused, laughing lightly, "But they did not seem to realize that I was a quick learner. Still, after several failed attempts of trying to get them to let me do my own thing… I realized that if I acted cute, or if I pretended I didn't know what was going on, they would… pity me. Pity me, and let me focus on the things I love. And because it's someone else who's always taking the responsibility to fix the economy, my country is stable. And I can focus on art and agriculture and cooking…" Italy smiled again. "I'm afraid I don't have as kind an excuse as you, but remember that I'm also doing my best to make other people feel… important."

"Hey, no shame in that," America agreed easily, giving the Italian's hand a squeeze. "But what say we get a bunch of tears tracks on our faces? We need some evidence…"

Italy stopped him with a gentle hand, smiling mischievously. "How about kiss marks, too?"

"Didn't consider that angle of it before," America paused, tapping a finger to his chin. "But… actually, I guess most people would expect that, huh? Comfort and what-not. I did put on a pretty good show, and it would be pretty obvious to anyone not paying attention that I like you enough to be your hero… Because for all intents and purposes, I'm obviously not dating England 'anymore', or else he wouldn't be that cruel—"

"Are you dating him, though?" Italy interrupted him. "Everything is so ambiguous with you two, and try as I might, it's rather hard to see all the little gestures when your eyes are closed most times…"

America chuckled good naturedly. "No, we've never been together. Not much cause to, really. I just sort of let him lecture me…"

"It keeps them feeling powerful, just like Germany and me," Italy said, dropping his voice to a whisper. "You and I are a lot alike, aren't we?"

"More than you'd know," America agreed, then leaned forward, tilting his head just so towards the smaller nation. "So, then. Are you going to kiss me or not?"

"America, the mighty superpower, asking permission?" Italy said, tilting his head forward as well. "I suppose I'll just have to teach him about Italian culture, veh…"

America had to do his best not to laugh out-right at the 'veh' sound. He was half tempted to break into his standard obnoxious laughter, just for continuity's sake. Still, he didn't have a chance to as experienced lips met his own, less than experienced ones. He quickly memorized their feel and immediately put his 'new skill' to use.

"You are a quick learner," Italy said sweetly when they broke apart for air. "I would normally go further, but I suppose that wouldn't be expected, would it?"

"A shame that everything we do is for pretenses," America admitted. "But hey, if it keeps me out of wars—"

"And if it keeps my economy running smoothly," Italy cut in, smiling that same smile as always—which America easily matched, biting down the urge to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all—before pushing America onto his back.

"Right," America amended, wrapping his arms around the Italian's waist. "If it does that for us, I guess it's a good thing, isn't it?"

Their lips met again, experience and new skills on display for any to see—probably a good thing, as other nations would probably see it as a sign of the apocalypse.

After all, it was rather nice to let their expertise and quick-learning to a good use for once.

XXX

America and Italy walked back into the meeting room towards the tail end of the session, hand in hand, which was no surprise to the nations around them.

"The hero has arrived with his new best buddy, Italy!" America announced loudly, twirling Italy around by their intertwined hands.

"Aaaah!" Italy giggled, clumsily falling backwards after being spun like that, where he was easily caught by the stronger nation. "Veeeh… America is so strong! You should catch me more, veh! Maybe when we dance again, you can—"

"H…Hey!" America interrupted, setting the Italian nation upright but not letting go of him. "You were supposed to keep that a secret!" (The 'meeting-persona' look in his eyes was easily caught by Italy, who stared up at him through his eyelashes.) "Now everyone's gonna know we're together! Not cool, dude!"

"Ohhh…" Italy sounded just the right amount of distraught to sound genuinely upset. "Is America mad at me? I'm so sorry, veh!"

America just pouted, then broke into a broad (fake) grin. "Nah, it'll be alright, little dude. I don't think we woulda been able to hide it from these guys for too long. It's like they all have PS3 or something!"

"It's ESP, for one, you git," England suddenly snapped, standing upright with a look of utmost indignation on his face. "And secondly, it's just reading the atmosphere! I'm surprised you two even got together, you're both so bad at it!"

At that point, Germany intervened, preventing England from launching into another round of lectures. "That is enough. Italia, Amerika…" he paused, looking somewhat regretful, "Please… sit down. The meeting will be over in just a minute, so just—"

"Booooring!" America interrupted. "If it's just about to end, then I can take my little Italy out to dinner!" He paused, turning to the host nation, France. "And you guys have some halfway decent food here, don'tcha?"

"Sacre bleu!" France stuttered, indignant. "What do you mean, 'halfway decent'? I am ze best in all of Europe! We have delicious cuisine all over my house!"

"Geesh, touchy!" America laughed if off, pulling Italy along by the hand. "Aaaaanyways, I guess we should get goin' then, 'cause it's like way past lunch time at my place!"

Italy just broke into an overly peppy grin before hugging America as tight as (the other nations thought) he could. "We should see if I we can get pasta! America, let's get pasta, because it's delicious and you can find it almost anywhere, but it's not as good if it's not in my place, so I should pick the restaurant out myself, and—"

The moment the door closed behind them, America cut him off with a kiss, causing Italy to open his eyes all the way and break into the intelligent, even smile that was reserved solely for him. America quickly matched it, before quirking one side of his lips up in a self-satisfied smirk.

"Now, I'm not sure about you, but some early dinner actually does sound pretty good to me. How about you?" America asked, offering his elbow to the Italian nation, who took it gently.

"That sounds wonderful."

And the nations in the room behind them would never know that over dinner, they discussed economic relations and the best ways to long-term improve their economies, military strong-points and whether or not it would really be a good idea to ever reveal their true intentions to the rest of the nations.

Clueless, indeed.

**XXX**

**This has just been an idea I've been kicking around for a while. Forgive me if this changes your head-canons, but it's what I think, anyways. Sometimes. Unless I'm in a US or Italy X anyone else mood. Then I have them be clueless for realz, y'all! **


End file.
